Of Hamelin
by lamentomori
Summary: A moment between two men more alike than not. Warnings: Slash (Rowdy Roddy Piper/CM Punk), Smut, Profanity.


Warnings: Slash (Rowdy Roddy Piper/Punk), Smut, Profanity.

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"You out here to howl at the moon too?" Rowdy Roddy Piper takes a seat on the low wall, that separated the loading docks from the parking lot, beside Punk. He nodded vaguely in acknowledgement but gave no other indication he'd heard what Piper had said. "I never had you pegged for the hiding in parking lots type." He glances over at Punk and nudges him slightly.

"I wasn't." Punk says eventually, his voice quiet and low. "Things change." He shrugs and looks over at Piper, something off in his expression. "So what do you think of the new _new_ Roddy Piper?" He smiles slightly and Piper laughs, the Ambrose kid is good, one day he'll be great.

"More of a Pillman, if you ask me." Roddy laughs, a snort of amusement and Punk chuckles.

"Glad you agree." He returns to staring up at the night sky. "I wonder if he resents the comparison."

"Well you always did." That is true enough, the first time they'd met, long ago, Punk had been introduced as what could be this generation's Hot Rod, he'd scoffed and said that was impossible, the only thing he could be was this generation's CM Punk, Piper had agreed and their conversation had gone from there.

"He ply you for stories too?" Punk asks, turning to Roddy once more, tucking his legs up, looking like he's settling in for the long haul again. Over the years, Piper is certain Punk has tapped him for more road stories than any other kid he's ever come across. The one night Punk and his buddy Cabana had tag-teamed him had all but killed his throat, telling them tales of the adventures of Hot Rod had been like trying to fill a leaky bucket.

"No one has ever plied me quite like you, Punk." Another snort of amusement and Punk pulls some kind of exaggerated miserable face.

"I'm sure I should be offended but..." He trails off, resting his chin in his hand and smiles, something soft and lazy.

"But?" Roddy twists slightly to face him. The first time they'd met, Punk had propositioned him. It had been incredibly awkward fobbing him off, awkward and strangely amusing. The kid he'd been then had laughed it off, apologising and sending his wife a bunch of flowers, which had led to an odd stumbling conversation and explaining of something close enough to the truth to satisfy her. Accepting that wrestlers will engage in some unmentionable things is perhaps the key to being married for any length of time in the business, not that Piper has, it's never appealed, he loves his wife too much for it to, but the scruffy bleach blond, blue tipped kid making the offer has always played on the back of his mind. If he was going to fuck one of the boys, it'd be Punk.

"I find I don't much care." Punk shrugs, looks suddenly very tired, not just physically, mentally, emotionally.

"You tired?" It sounds like a simple question but it's far from it, it's a deep, multi-layered thing, a question in a question. Tired and needing to sleep, tired and needing to be away from the ring, tired and needing away from here. Punk nods.

"I'm _always_ tired, Piper." He sighs and scrubs at his face.

"So, I hear you got one of these bus gimmicks." Piper stands, dusts off his pants. "Gimme a tour." Punk raises an eyebrow and stands. If the kid gets what he really means, Piper's got no idea but there is meaning behind these words too, they met a long time ago but the offer has always been there and the miserable set in Punk's shoulders is giving away that the end is nigh for it. Missed opportunities are the only things in life people should regret and he hates regretting things.

Punk's bus is big, shiny silver and entirely something that would have been laughed at back in his day. Inside is very _Punk_, comic books and cables trailing all over the place. It amuses Piper entirely too much.

"You'd be a laughing stock in my day." Piper tells him, a smirk on his lips.

"I did my fair share of sleeping in cars with my friends." Punk mutters, messing up his hair some and taking off his hoodie.

"Or sleeping with your friends in cars, huh?" Piper laughs and Punk groans.

"You want a drink?" He actually looks mildly uncomfortable, as though he really isn't sure what's going on here at all.

"What you got?" Roddy smiles at him, aiming for reassuring and he seems to relax somewhat, running a hand through his hair.

"Uh... Water and Pepsi." He walks over to the fridge and opens it. "There's some milk." He gives a nervous laugh and Piper starts looking through the stack of DVDs in the corner by the TV, all labelled in a cursive scrawl he assumes is Punk's, old matches from various defunct promotions, a bunch of horror movies, including his own, the odd little doodle on that one disc of what looks like Piper makes him laugh. "I went with water." Punk comes over, hands him a bottle of water and he twists the cap off, drinking from it.

"You're not much of an artist, Punk. I wouldn't give up the day job." Piper grins at him and he sighs. Tired and done it is then, Piper thinks, wondering if anyone else has noticed how sincere the threats of being finished with the WWE's shit actually are. From what he can gather of the backstage opinion on Punk, it's rather similar to the backstage opinion of himself, a lot of hot air but not much else. It's naive really, determination isn't something either of them lack, a will to carry out threats, the need for personal survival over pretty much all else. There was, perhaps, something of a truth in Punk being introduced to him as this generation's Hot Rod all those years ago. Punk looks at him expectantly and he sighs. "You want me to start quoting itor something?" He mutters, snorting a laugh, staring at Punk as he fidgets, looking slightly confused.

"Well, if you wanna paraphrase, I won't object to _I have come here to chew bubblegum and fuck your ass_." Punk grins and rubs at the back of his neck

"I'm all out of gum." Roddy snorts with laugher and steps closer to him, pulling him into a kiss. Once the decision to fuck Punk was been made, getting down to the business of it is all that's on Piper's mind. The body in his arms is responsive, all low moans and almost reverent hands. It should feel weird, being touched like this but somehow, he's used to the reverential way these kids treat him, like he was some kind of venerable gentleman the needs to be treated with constant respect. The few bumps he's taken more recently have been feather soft and gentile. It amuses him, all of this lauded _strong style_ bullshit with each other and yet with a _legend_ they show that they can work light. Children, and really that is what so many of them backstage are, the old boys included, need to remember to play nice.

"Bed." Punk says, breaking the kiss, then diving in for another, his hands in Piper's hair, running though it gently. "Back here." Another kiss. "This way." A third and this time Roddy breaks it, his hands running down Punk's back, grabbing his ass.

"I guess, kid, I'll have to play you there, then." He laughs and Punk looks at him, confusion at first then realisation dawning over him.

"You ain't got a flute though." He smiles and Roddy manages to resist the urge to make a crass joke, instead stepping round him and walking to the back of the bus, Punk following closely behind.

"Nice." Piper mutters and pulls Punk's shirt over his head. He presses him against a wall and starts kissing down his throat and over his shoulders. "Got the gimmicks?" Piper asks and Punk laughs.

"I _love_ how you guys use gimmick to cover anything you'd remember the name of." He laughs and kisses Piper, his hands still gentle and timid. "I got gimmicks." He grins and waggles his eyebrows.

"Thought you had a girlfriend?" Piper asks, turning Punk round and walking towards the bed, pushing on his shoulders, forcing him down on it.

"I do and I don't want kids. I'm fucking responsible" He grins.

"Responsible fucking?" Piper laughs. "Where?" He looks down at Punk and pulls the baggy shorts from him. "How the fuck do you not freeze your balls off?" Piper mutters, commando in thin shorts in January, this kid is an idiot.

"They need to breathe!" He smirks and squirms up the bed, leans over and opens a drawer in a nightstand, tossing a condom and lube to Piper.

"Breathe, they'll need thawing." He mutters, opening the lube and coating one hand, he's fucked people in the ass before; the mechanics are essential but mildly irritating, one of the many reasons fucking a woman easier. He slides one finger inside of Punk and his back arches from the bed.

"Ah fuck." His eyes focus on Roddy's own. "You have _no _idea how long I've waited for this." He moans.

"A few years?" Piper snorts and eases another finger into him, stretching them apart.

"Years and years and _years_." He moans, rocking down against Roddy's hand. "Fuck, more." He demands and Piper pulls his fingers out, shedding his pants and boxers. Age is a pain in the ass, as fuckable as Punk is, it'll take him a while to remind his cock to be interested in it. He tosses Punk the lube.

"Give yourself more." He smirks at Punk, who looks at him incredulously and sighs.

"Fucking part-timers." He works one slick finger inside of himself.

"_Legend_, different contract, Punk." Roddy smirks and starts jacking his cock, watching a second finger being added.

"Ah, _fuck_. Same thing. Making me do all the work." He smirks and fucks himself with his fingers, slow and deep as he can. "You want me to?" He nods at Roddy's slowly hardening cock and gets a short headshake in response.

"Keep going." A third finger has him arching his back again, his throat bared and offered up. It seems a change is as good as a rest for Piper's cock; it's been a while since he's gotten hard this quickly. He opens the condom and rolls it down his cock, then catches Punk's wrist. "You ready?" Punk nods and pulls his fingers from himself, giving Piper's cock a quick stroke, eyes widening at the size.

"Maybe not." He smirks and Piper laughs.

"You'll be fine." Punk grabs his own cock and starts stroking himself, his half-erection firming up as Piper enters him. "Fuck, you ever even been fucked before?" Piper's eyes narrow as he moves rocks back and forth inside Punk's tight body.

"Once or twice." His eyes are screwed shut, his hand moving rapidly, breath shallow and quick.

"Wanna stop?" Piper asks, leaning over him, stroking his hair slightly, his eyes open and he shakes his head.

"Gimme a second." He forces his breathing to slow down, his eyes focused on Roddy's own again. "Kiss me?" It's an easy request to grant, the kiss is unexpectedly slow and soft, the few previous ones were hard and fast, all teeth and tongue but that isn't what Punk needs right now, understanding born of similarities, Piper supposes, breaking the kiss to lap at his throat some more.

"Okay?" Piper asks when Punk's legs wrap around his waist, squeezing lightly.

"Yeah." He smiles and Roddy begins fucking him in earnest, licking and nibbling on his bared throat. His hands tug at the shirt Piper's still wearing, nails scrabbling over the fabric. "Off?" He tugs at the shirt and Piper pulls back from his lips. He's wearing some kind of an attempt at a sweet, innocent look, failing miserably but trying and it's kind of endearing.

"Fine, fine." He pulls the shirt over his head and Punk rears up, his mouth moving over as much of Roddy's chest as he can reach. Piper moves back, pulls out of him and sits at the head of the bed. "Part-timer." He grins and gestures to his cock, Punk sighs dramatically and lowers himself over it, moaning softly as being on top lets Piper's dick sink further into him. He fucks himself slow and easy, his legs working to make his movements fluid.

"You really making me do all the work?" He moans after a while, he's looking rather glazed, close to coming, Piper thinks and he's glad of that, his own orgasm is painfully close.

"I'll give you a hand." He wraps one hand around Punk's cock and strokes him quickly. It's surprising how little it takes to make him come, his head thrown back, shivering and moaning. He rises from Roddy's dick and pulls the condom off, his mouth sinking over the revealed flesh. It's embarrassing that he comes after a few bobs of Punk's head but really, Piper was close and Punk gives good head. He collapses beside Piper, a lazily content grin on his face and sticks his tongue out, the splash of white cum still on it. He makes a show of swallowing and Piper shakes his head. A comfortable silence settles over them, Punk lazily staring at the roof and Piper quietly considering what to do next.

"So..." Punk sits up in the bed, his back against the wall, his head bowed and Piper glances over at him, still slumped against the wall. He hates growing old, hates the aches that settle in his bones so easily, hates that all his body would like right now is to have a sleep, his mind is picturing the other positions he could fuck Punk in throughout this bus and he'd much rather to be able to follow through on those thoughts.

"So?" He asks, Punk tucks his legs up under his chin, looks over at him, a bright grin on his face.

"You _finally_ caved." His grin is infectious; Piper can feel one of his own on his face.

"I guess I did." He stands and grabbing his boxers and shirt up from the floor, pulling at least his underwear back on. "You ain't gonna ask why?" He sits back on the bed, looking over his shoulder at Punk.

"Nah." He shakes his head and squirms closer, his chest pressed against Piper's back, arms about his chest. "Thank you though." He sounds desperately sincere, all Roddy can do is shrug and pat one of the colourful arms. It's an odd thing, being thanked for a fuck, especially these days.

"You ain't getting your Mania main event before you go, figured you might as well get something else." Piper laughs, his comment drawing a huff of amusement from Punk.

"Wanted to win the Rumble too." Punk's voice is pitched low and rough. "I get something else for that too?" His lips brush against the back of Roddy's neck, his tongue darting out to taste the skin there. "Got a whole bunch of other pay per views I didn't get to main event, a veritable laundry list of grievances." He murmurs and Piper almost sighs, this kid aims to be the death of him. He twists round, grabs Punk's chin, holds it firm and runs a hand through his hair.

"Gimme a ride to the next town and I'll help you with some of those _grievances_."

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_So yeah... this is a thing __and no I regret it not! ;)_

**_Reviews are always good so you know, leave one in the box!_**


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